


On Falling

by MaraschinoSqueeze



Series: Exercises in POV [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Idiots in Love, M/M, POV Changes, Writing Exercise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 01:41:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21679291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaraschinoSqueeze/pseuds/MaraschinoSqueeze
Summary: Steve and Tony realize they are in love with each other, told from three points of view.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: Exercises in POV [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1562830
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	1. First Person - Tony

**Author's Note:**

> I am writing this series to practice different points of views. It will be multi-pairing and I’m just writing for fun and practice.
> 
> This first part is Steve and Tony, written in first, second, and third person. 
> 
> It’s mostly unedited and not at all beta’d.

People say it happens gradually. Jane Austen, by all accounts an expert on this subject wrote, “I cannot fix on the hour, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew I had begun.” I suppose that’s as true as it is false. I know the moment I realized I was in love with him. And I know I had been for quite some time when I accepted it. But I have an eidetic memory, and I’m nothing if not thorough in my analysis. So as soon as I knew, I searched for where it began.

I waited in my laboratory. It was just past noon and I had paused my work. I had no reason to stop, I was making amazing headway on the electromagnetic panels in Cap’s gloves, but I just stopped. I stared at the door to the lab and just waited without any idea what I was waiting for until in walked Steve with a tray of food. I glanced at the clock on the holographic interface and thought, “he’s late for an appointment neither of us set and I’m in love with him.”

He asked what I was working in and I told him and he smiled that dopey soft smile that made me feel like the arc reactor was going to be squeezed out of my chest cavity like a can of cranberry sauce, all loud and wet and jiggly. I traced that feeling and found the first one hiding in plain sight that time Clint had been instructing Steve on making homemade whipping cream. “Beat it faster, Steve.”

And Steve without a pause had said “I prefer to do that in private.” A surprised bark of laughter had escaped my lips and Steve had winked at me and I felt that warm tightening in my chest for the first time.

But that wasn’t when it started. The chest tightening wasn’t the genesis. Before that was the elevated heart rate when Steve put his hand on my shoulder as he passed. And the first time I gravitated toward the seat next to Steve’s.

Once I knew I was in love with him, I kept noticing things I did, ways I reacted to him. It seemed my search for the beginning was never going to end.

But I had missed a critical variable to the data and I didn’t realize it until Bruce accidentally showed me it. We’d been brainstorming containment options for the big guy, and Steve walked in, dripping wet from a run, throat working over a liter of water. He wiped the excess off his mouth and beamed at me like The Luxor Lamp. My heart stuttered and my mind blanked.

“Tony!”

“What? Huh?”

Bruce was examining me with bewilderment, “you spaced out there. You okay? How much did you sleep last night?”

And that one was hard. Chasing negative space. How to track the times Steve made the endless chatter of my always active mind slow to a stand still. I ended up creating an algorithm to search through JARVIS’ feed for times I looked spaced out, unresponsive, decreased heart rates, and rises in body temperature. And I found it, of course I did.

I started falling in love with Steven Grant Rogers on a Tuesday morning. October 2, 2012. He was sitting behind an easel in the common room. He wasn’t painting, just staring out the windows at the splattering of red and yellow leaves. He looked over his shoulder at me and said, “It’s my favorite time of year. It’s beautiful isn’t it? I always think of autumn when you’re in the suit. They feel like your colors now.” JARVIS detected a stutter in my heart rate. I brought my coffee cup to my mouth in an attempt to recover control of my faculties, but I missed and poured steaming coffee down my suit front, scalding myself and ruining my tie.

That was the moment it began, and I won’t forget the moment I knew I was in the middle, but there’s no end to track. The data remains incomplete. And I’m perfectly okay with that.


	2. Second person - Steve

You don’t always know it when it’s there. Sometimes you just gravitate towards someone and you don’t really recognize what that means. You bring him lunch. You try to make him laugh. You show off a bit for him. You watch him.

But you don’t think there’s anything to it. You think he’s just interesting. You think he’s different and different is fascinating.

You start to think of him as an anchor. He’d call it a grounding wire. You don’t care what terminology is used. You just know he’s the thing that keeps you present. The thing that keeps you from drifting through time.

He tells you he’s working on some sort of magnet to help you control the shield in the field and you think, “that’s you. You’re my magnet. You always bring me back.”

You notice things he likes and doesn’t like and you try to get it right for him. You try to take care of him because that makes you feel needed. Wanted. Present. You brew him coffee and leave his favorite mug out for him. You order from his favorite takeout joints to lure him out of his workshop. You wear clothes he compliments you on.

You notice he’s very tactile, his hands are always moving, gesturing and building and dancing around. You spend a lot of time sketching his hands from memory. You wonder what his hands feel like.

You also notice he’s a little touch starved and that hurts. You let your hand linger on his shoulder. You like the way he leans into the touch. You sit close to him on the couch during movie nights. You feel the heat of his body pressed against yours for hours afterwards. You touch the back of his hand to let him know you’re listening. You think maybe that last one was more for you but you like the way it makes him pause and stare at you with wonder. You start to sketch his eyes.

One day you just know. You know what this thing in your gut is. You know that the way he makes your heart sing means something more. You know you love him. But you don’t know what to do with that.

You think you’re no good at this. You’ve always been good at recognizing beauty and you’ve always known how to take care of people. But you don’t know what you’re supposed to do with that.

You worry that you’ll scare him. You think about telling him but you’re afraid you’ve read it wrong. You remember rejection too clearly. It’s not like a sting or a stab. It’s like getting the wind knocked out of you. It’s cold like ice.

So you do nothing. You continue on as if you aren’t carrying this wonderful terrifying feeling around with you. You bring him lunch and watch his hands fly and you make him laugh. But you don’t tell him you love him.

Later you know you miscalculated. You thought this thing between you was fragile. You thought it was delicate. You thought you wouldn’t know your own strength and you’d crush it.

He’s strong and lithe. He pounds metal and lifts pipes and you watch him mold nothing into something. His hands are steady and they expertly perform delicate work. He welds and slices fibers and metals and connects thin wires and you see how it takes both strength and precision to create.

And then you know what to do. You know your love for him is strong and you know your care for him is delicate and one day he’s designing some sort of homing device for the suit and you tell him that. You say “the way I love you is like the way you cleared out the space for the server. It’s like the hammer you use to fit the metal into place. The way I love you is like the way you replaced the circuit in the suit. It’s like the way you required the satellite so it could track you. The way I love you is like an invention.”

You surprised him and he didn’t speak for a while. You got worried. But then he smiled and you thought “I’ve never seen anything as radiant as that.” So you started sketching his mouth.


	3. Third person

Steve and Tony acted like an item long before they ever confessed their feelings for each other. The rest of the Avengers assumed they were dating and weren’t ready to share it with them yet. Of course, it was Natasha who figured out that Steve and Tony had not even acknowledged their feelings to themselves, let alone to each other.

“There’s no way, Nat! They drool over each other whenever they’re within a mile of one another,” Clint cried. He shook his head as if he could convince her with his bobble head impersonation.

Bruce grimaced, “Natasha, I think this is a first because you know I trust your judgment, but are you sure you’re not mistaken? They can’t keep their hands off each other.” Clint raised his eyebrows and moved his arm in a sweeping gesture towards Bruce.

Thor was regarded Natasha quietly for a while before asking, “what brings you to this conclusion, Lady Natasha?”

Natasha ignored Clint and Bruce, speaking directly to Thor, “I heard Tony tell Steve that Pepper is setting him up on a date for the Maria Stark Foundation Gala.”

“They could’ve been saying that because you-,” Clint started.

Natasha continued as if he hadn’t spoken, “They didn’t know I was present.”

Clint gaped at her. “How could they not…”

Bruce squirmed. He didn’t like talking about friends like this, but they’d all assumed they were together and agreed to let them tell the team on their own terms. Discovering that they weren’t a couple, despite how they acted together, was disconcerting. “Do you think they know and haven’t acted on it or do you think they’re completely oblivious.”

Natasha hesitated. “I think they know. I think they know and they haven’t told each other. I think they’re both working under the assumption that it’s unrequited.”

“Idiots,” Clint muttered, apparently over his shock, “So what do we do? Parent trap em?”

“We should enlighten them. They are blinded by they’re feelings and do not see what is before them,” Thor interjected.

Bruce regraded Natasha before speaking, “I think we should do nothing. Before we knew this, we agreed to give them space to come forward. This shouldn’t be any different.”

Natasha nodded, “I agree. If they figure it out, great. If they don’t, that’s on them. We shouldn’t meddle.”

And so they all agreed. They continued to watch Tony and Steve interact, only now they did so with the frustrating knowledge that their friends and teammates were needlessly suffering because they refused to see in front of themselves.

Clint broke first. “So how was your lunch with Steve today?”

“I – what?” Tony stopped the explanation of the new arrow design he’d implemented and stared dumbly at Clint.

“You guys have lunch together everyday, right? I mean he always bring you food to your workshop?”

“I… He… I mean… good. It was good.” Tony’s brow furrowed and he gazed at the workshop doors.

“These are great Tony, thanks.” Clint patted Tony on the back, smirked and brushed his hands together as he walked away.

“Jane is very fond of this beverage as well, I’ve learned. Her preferred chalice has the… molecular structure of caffeine on it.” Thor beamed. He’d asked Jane to explain the inscription on her favorite coffee mug. “It’s a pleasant feeling to do things for the ones we love, is it not?”

“Hmm? What? Oh! Tony he… he’s hard to talk to before he has… I’m sorry did you say love?” Steve fumbled with the coffee grounds.

“Aye… it is rewarding to be able to bring any measure of happiness to her, as I’m sure you agree for Tony.” Thor nodded approvingly and left.

Steve stared down at the spilled coffee grounds mouthing words under his breath.

Bruce was only mildly disappointed in himself. Really he hadn’t done much. Tony had done all the work for him. Sputtering like a fish because a sweating post-run Steve has smiled at him. Usually Bruce would just ignore it. Pretend he wasn’t witnessing what he was witnessing. But he couldn’t help himself. And really it wasn’t like he’d done anything. He’d just pointed out that Tony went offline. It wasn’t his fault Tony made the connection.

Natasha tried to find it in her to be disappointed in herself. But she just couldn’t. They’d all broken, as she knew they would. And really this had gone on too long.

She twirled a widow bite in her hand as Steve watched. “It’s amazing isn’t it? Tony upgraded them. Feel how much heavier they are?” She handed it to him. “And look at the edges… he must’ve done some of this by hand. But the electrical work… it’s kind of fascinating what he can do with his hands, a chunk of metal, and some wires, isn’t it?”

“We’re a team, so we wanted to tell you. To assure you this wouldn’t interfere with the team,” Steve was saying.

“Not that we’d stop, but… but ah… so yea we’re a thing, we’re a team. Okay, movie night?”

The rest of the team just smiled at each other. Steve and Tony didn’t notice. They were too busy looking at each other.


End file.
